Sorry I'm Ignoring You Month
by kurgaya
Summary: IchiHitsu - Drabbles about NaNoWriMo – some may be slightly exaggerated, but only maybe.


**Note: **I'm baaack~ Did you miss me? A big thanks for my beta (ohmygodIactuallyhaveabeta! *sob*) **HimaRules **who's been helping me pick this apart and then put it back together again :P NaNoWriMo was fun, chaotic, stressful, worrying, and I wouldn't have missed it for the world! I did manage to reach 50k (on the 27th - wooo!) and now I'm here, presenting you with the one thing I have missed so much: IchiHitsu.

Enjoy.

P.S. Anything related to the novel belongs to me, as the story that Ichigo is writing is the one that I wrote :D (Wow, I own something!) Everything else belongs to Kubo, sadly.

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><p><strong>Sorry-I'm-Ignoring-You Month<strong>

Drabbles about NaNoWriMo – some _may _be slightly exaggerated, but only maybe.

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><p><strong>1.<strong>

Tōshirō wasn't quite sure what he was getting himself into when Ichigo told him about NaNoWriMo and how he might be a _tad _busy for the whole of the next month, but he supposed if it made his spouse happy then he wasn't going to complain.

Ichigo had _tried _to explain what this 'National-Novel-Writing-Month' was about and, for the most part, Tōshirō had understood. The taicho of the fifth division was taking up the challenge of writing a novel in a month, or what some people might consider a novel (he personally thought a novel was a bit longer than fifty thousand words – _oh _he didn't know… twice the length maybe? Not that he was trying to put anybody down, of course; his husband hadn't been told about this particular opinion on the challenge). It sounded like quite a task to Tōshirō and he had nodded along as Ichigo rambled on about what he hoped it was going to be like, what he was hoping to achieve, and how his story might come about. Ichigo didn't really seem to notice that he wasn't paying much attention from his seat at the table, watching the white-haired male flutter around the kitchen trying to prepare dinner, and just continued with his sunny grin on his face as he explained the 'do's and 'do not's of the worldwide challenge.

"I'll try and get most of the writing done while you're still working," Ichigo said as Tōshirō pulled a tray out of the oven, the rice in the steamer starting to hiss. "So that it won't be like I've vanished for a month."

A frown appeared on the busy face, and Tōshirō left the food to cool for a moment, turning around and placing his hands up against the counter behind him. Blonde eyebrows rose in surprise from across the kitchen, as if Ichigo couldn't comprehend why exactly his husband was looking at him like that.

"You're not going to be around?"

The reply he got was a slow, puzzled, "Um, no...?" that gave Tōshirō the impression that they had jumped over this hurdle some time ago and he just hadn't been listening. "When I'm not doing my duties in the fifth I'll be writing - gotta reach _at least _one thousand one hundred and sixty-seven words a day, after all. Not writing for a day could be terrible - I'd have to catch it up at some point."

"Oh." said Tōshirō, and he turned back around to focus on the dinner.

He missed Ichigo's face forming into that of a kicked puppy behind him.

**2.**

"Hey, hey, Tōshirō!"

The busy taicho of the tenth division looked up from the financial report he was reading to send a perfectly aimed glare at the sunny mop of hair that appeared as the door to his office opened. Ichigo's eyes looked relieved upon seeing his husband scowling at the desk, and as he slipped the door shut behind him he called, "Great, you're here - I've been looking for you."

Small hands set the paper down carefully, as if it would set alight at any moment. "Surely my office is the first place you'd look?"

Taking a couple of steps forward, Ichigo rubbed the back of his head nervously. That action was enough of an answer to the shorter taicho, and Tōshirō rolled his eyes. "Idiot." he snapped, shaking his head. "What do you want?"

"I've got a problem in my novel." Ichigo announced, placing his hands on the edge of the desk. His spouse tipped his chair back and hummed, making a small motion with his hand for Ichigo to carry on. "Well, you see, my main characters are being chased by a dragon - "

" - Obviously you've come to the expert on dragons - "

Ichigo laughed softly, having been thinking the same when he tore himself away from his computer to search for his husband. "Yeah, well, they need to get into Wolfwynne Wood for the story to continue, but how do I stop the dragon from going in after them? I mean, a bunch of trees isn't exactly going to stop a fire breathing beast, is it?"

"No." said Tōshirō simply. "To be honest, most things won't really stop a dragon; your characters - what were their names? - they _have _to get into the woods safely?"

Ichigo thought about it for a moment. "Not safely, no, but the dragon can't go in after them."

"And this story has magic in it?" He didn't wait for a reply, continuing on before he lost his train of thought. "Well, why don't you make the trees out of water, or something- it doesn't have to be a normal wood, does it? Make it dragon-repelling."

"Dragon-repelling..." Ichigo echoed, his voice much quieter. There was a brief moment of silence as Ichigo contemplated the idea and Tōshirō wondered if perhaps his idea was a bad one, but there was a sharp click of fingers and a smile broke out on Ichigo's face. "Great! Thanks Tōshirō!" He leaned over the desk and gave his husband a peck on the forehead when the male settled the chair back down into it's original position, and then the fifth division taicho was out of the door without another moment's hesitation, his goal completed.

Tōshirō sighed and smiled fondly, picking his report back up again and returning to his work.

**3.**

He clicked 'save' and waited a moment for the computer to do the job, stacking up the loose pieces of paper and finding the uncapped Biro a home. Once the Word document had saved he shut down the laptop and turned off the power at the mains, sighing as he collected Ichigo's half empty cup of coffee and a plate covered in crumbs. Said novelist was snoring into his arms with drool sliding down the side of his chin, having fallen asleep in the middle of writing a sentence; the hard wood of the desk was not a very good place to sleep on, mused Tōshirō, shooting his husband a concerned look as he retreated from the study to wash up the cup and plate.

He'd be back with a blanket and a pillow in a little while. Ichigo was a lot heavier than he looked.

**4.**

"_When in doubt, add ninjas_... What sort of advice is that?"

"Very good advice, trust me. Though, I settled for second best."

"Second - ?"

The grin on Ichigo's face worried Tōshirō. He decided he wasn't going to ask.

**5.**

"I'm afraid I don't follow." said Rukia, peering at Ichigo expectantly over her sushi. He winced from the other side of the table, his sushi bowl barely touched due to the explanation of his novel that his friend had asked him to discuss. It was mid-week and breezy outside, thankfully not snowing yet because then the novel would never be finished. The pair were in Kuchiki Manor having lunch and catching up; Rukia had been on a mission with her fiancé - Renji had decided that he needed some 'male time' in the bar and so had not joined them - and Ichigo had cooped himself up in his room when he was not running around his division causing chaos.

He sighed dramatically, feeling as if his five-minute-long speech had gone to waste. "What don't you understand?"

"Well," said Rukia, nibbling on some smoked salmon. "This character - Tipa, was it? - was meant to be cold and secretive and cowardly; why is she suddenly talkative, bossy, and a total rebel? I don't understand why you wrote her like that when that's not what you had planned her to be."

"She just came out like that." Tried Ichigo, his attempt unsuccessful at shedding light onto the situation. Further prodding from Rukia made him continue, his words struggling to tumble out of his mouth. "Err - well, she wrote herself like that."

If Rukia had not been a Kuchiki, the fish and rice she had been eating would have been spat across the table in disbelief.

"You make it sound like you have no control over your characters."

Ichigo smiled, glad that she was beginning to understand. "I don't." he agreed, picking up his bowl and chopsticks to finally start eating. "I hate it and love - "

"You're the _novelist_," Rukia interrupted dryly. "You're the _author_. They don't have minds of their own, they're just char - "

"Tipa will hit you if you continue."

"_What?_"

"Kidding." Ichigo laughed, unaware of the glare he was receiving. "She's not real; she can't really hit you – that would be _terrible_."

Rukia huffed, stabbing her last piece of sushi a couple of times before picking it up. She pretended not to notice Ichigo flinching every time she did, happy that he was finally getting the message that she could do just the same to a _certain part of his body _if he didn't stop winding her up.

"I don't understand novelists." she eventually muttered, bringing the matter to a close.

"Don't worry," said Ichigo sympathetically. "Neither do I."

**6.**

"I know I said make it a dragon-repelling forest, but I didn't quite mean - well..."

"But it's a good idea, no?"

"...If it floats your boat, I suppose... It's not something I would have expected you to incorporate into your story, however..."

"You like it, though?"

"Liking it isn't really part of the problem, Ichigo."

"Problem? What's the problem with lightning-bolt firing squirrels?"

"…"

"… ?"

"Never mind."

**7.**

The first thing Tōshirō noticed about his husband that day was that he was practically glowing. Ichigo had walked into the kitchen that morning looking on top of the world, a spring in his step and a whistle on his lips, and Tōshirō leaned up for a kiss as he served up breakfast.

"Morning Tōshirō, what's on the menu this morning?"

There was no reason for asking- their plates both laid out on the counter in front of them, but the taicho decided to humour his husband anyway. "Bacon, egg, and French toast." he said, feeling Ichigo wrap his arms around his waist, preventing him from carrying the plates over to the table. "What's got you in such a good mood?"

He wasn't complaining about the nose nuzzling his neck; he was just a little curious.

"I finally got to the bit that I've been waiting to write for ages!" Ichigo said, kissing the tender skin just barely presented by the loved haori Tōshirō bore. "I just attacked my characters with a sea-dragon!"

He honestly sounded like a child hyper on candy, and Tōshirō chuckled quietly.

"Those poor characters." he said, pressing his body back into Ichigo's to try and get him to move. "Let me get to the table, I want to eat my breakfast before it gets cold."

Ichigo huffed but stepped out of the way, watching as Tōshirō spun swiftly on the spot, carrying the two overloaded plates like a waiter.

"Make some tea, would you?" he asked, setting the plates down. "And make sure it's tea - I'm not the only person who doesn't want you on a coffee-high at eight in the morning."

Having been just about to open the coffee jar, Ichigo pouted and reached for the tea bags instead, grumbling under his breath about how he 'needed coffee to get the word's flowing in the morning'. Tōshirō gave him no sympathy, shooting him an unimpressed look from his seat at the table.

"Your characters will be glad, too." he said, waving his chopsticks threateningly at his husband as puzzled brown eyes turned his way. "God knows what awful things you make them experience when you're having a sugar rush - or worse, _coffee withdrawal_."

Ichigo laughed, but only because he knew it to be true; he was pretty cruel to his characters - Trith had been abandoned at a young age, Fevy had lost his parents in a fire, and Tipa had no father and was thoroughly depressed, plagued with guilt for almost killing her only brother.

However, he couldn't deny that he enjoyed being horrible to them. There was something oddly satisfying about it.

**8.**

"Why am I doing this? _Why? _What on earth persuaded me to do this stupid thing? Ergh, I'm gonna fail miserably! Fifty thousand words in a month is TOO MUCH - I don't think many other participants are **_dead warriors _**with a WHOLE DIVISION to lead; no sir, and they _laugh _at my struggle! My pathetic, hopeless struggle! Uhhhh - kill me now, Tōshirō, before I go insane!"

"You're already insane."

"…"

"…"

"Thanks, I needed that cleared up."

"Do you feel better now after that tantrum?"

"Hey! I was not throwing a - okay, maybe I was."

"…"

"I do feel better, though. Thanks Tōshirō."

**9.**

"I want to be done by Sunday."

Books and stories were not the usual things they talked about in bed, and even though Ichigo was attempting to write a novel in one month, 'Herding Legends' and all its plot-holes and characters was something he had decided long before the word 'Go' that would not be discussed while they cuddled and whispered in the dark. This meant that Tōshirō was a little surprised at the topic choice, but he answered his waiting spouse anyway, wondering what was on his mind.

"I thought the deadline was Wednesday?"

"It is," said Ichigo, lifting one of his hands out of the clutches of the duvet to gently stroke Tōshirō's cheek. "But our anniversary's on the 29th, and I don't want to ruin it by panicking about my word count."

Tōshirō hummed happily in response to that, his face heating up to a soft pink. "I'd like that." he said, shutting his eyes as he smiled. "Thank you."

**10.**

The cry of delight that vibrated around the house at nine-thirty Sunday night told the male curled up under a blanket on the sofa one thing, and he smiled, slowly shutting the murder mystery book he was reading as a blur of red, black, and orange appeared before him. He uttered nothing as Ichigo held his arms open, clad in his evening yukata, and just stood, settling into his husband's embrace.

"_I made it_!" giggled Ichigo, pulling Tōshirō into a short kiss. "I made it, I made it!"

Tōshirō laughed with him, bringing his hands up to wrap around the back of Ichigo's neck, guiding him into another kiss. "Well done." he said when they broke apart. "And you're three days ahead of schedule; you should feel proud."

Ichigo actually squealed, of all things, his spiritual energy buzzing in well-deserved happiness. "I can't wait to do it again." he announced. "That was the most amazing month of my life."

Scoffing slightly, Tōshirō kissed his spouse again. "Can I read the story now?"

There was a nervous laugh from above him. "Sorry Shiro," came the reply, daringly using the dreaded nickname. "No can do."

A thin, white eyebrow rose in question.

"It ain't finished yet."

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><p><strong>End Note: <strong>Will (hopefully) be discussing Devoid of Death with my beta next, so, apart from any one-shots that strike me out of the blue, hopefully, **_hopefully_**, there will be an update at some point, but don't hold your breaths.

Please review?

Till next time,

xTKx


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